


Alone

by Viking_woman



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Angst, Character Study, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-26
Updated: 2017-08-26
Packaged: 2018-12-20 07:47:27
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 704
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11916384
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Viking_woman/pseuds/Viking_woman
Summary: Solas never expected friendship.He never expected how much it could mean.





	Alone

**Author's Note:**

> Originally written for Sub Solas week on tumblr, on the theme touch-starved.

Josephine is the first who discovers it. After a meeting, she thanks him for his insight on the Breach, touching his arm lightly. He can feel the heat of her hand through his sweater, and he leans slightly towards her. He jerks back when he realizes, but the Ambassador just smiles.

 A few days later, she hands him a report on rift locations.

“You should join us for dinner some time, Solas.” She says it casually, with a smile. He knows her and Leliana tries to get the Herald, the advisors and the closest circle to all come. He thinks of the press of people, of the warmth of them. He thinks of things he can’t have. He shakes his head.

She hovers closer, into his space, but not close enough to touch. “Your stories are so fascinating. It would be a delight to have you join, should you change your mind.”

\---

Sera, of all people, is the next one who notices. They are in the tavern in Haven, returned from a successful outing. He is not entirely sure why he is here, on the same bench as the Herald, drinking thin beer. Sera appears, carrying more.

“Scoot over, Solas!”

She doesn’t wait, she sits next to him, and he suddenly trapped between the large human and the small elf. It feels hot, their thighs pressed against him. Real. He focuses on his drink.

Soon, Sera leans across him, raising her fist to meet Trevelyan’s. It puts her head below his chin, and he can’t remember the last time he had someone else’s hair tickle his face. Her hair smells like lavender soap, and _he cannot remember_. When she gone, he is frozen. Everyone is so alive. He quickly retreats, bidding all of them goodnight. He can feel Sera’s eyes at his back.

Now, whenever they fight together, Sera claps his shoulder after, a friendly gesture for all her biting words.

“Arrows, eh? Not a bad thing.”

It is not a bad thing at all.

\---

The Inquisitor relies on touch. He kisses Cassandra’s hand and laughs when she blushes. He offers a friendly hug to any soldier after a sparring match. He squeezes Leliana’s shoulder when he accepts a report.

Solas finds he enjoys the other man’s friendship, odd as it seems. He is remarkably open minded for what Solas has come to expect in this age. Despite his preference of turning almost anything into a lighthearted joke, he shows both compassion and subtlety in leading the Inquisition. He continues to surprise.   

When he stops by with a question for Solas, he leans into his space. He offers a big smile, or a frown when he disagrees. He brushes his hand against Solas’, he clasps his shoulder. Solas finds he doesn’t mind.

\---

It becomes a new normal, no matter who is in his company. Touches. Smiles. Friendship.

\---

 He gives in at some point, seeking it out.

They are at a camp, and the Iron Bull has convinced Cassandra to read aloud from Sword and Shields. She is furiously blushing, but Max Trevelyan is disarming and encouraging, his head resting in Dorian’s lap. Soon, however, Cassandra declares it too dark to read.

“I can provide some light,” Solas offers, and uses it as an excuse to move closer to her, a mage light appearing by his face. When he feels tired, it feels utterly normal to rest his head on Cassandras shoulder.

\---

 

“They’re real, you know.” Cole is perched at the top of the scaffolding, knees tucked under his chin.

“I am not sure that is something you can understand, Cole.”

“You like it though. Their realness.”

He doesn’t answer. He knows Cole is just trying to help, but he doesn’t need the reminder. He has gotten used to it, being among people. Friends.

“It doesn’t have to end. Why will it?”

“I appreciate your help, but it might be better if you stopped trying. I am truly sorry.”

“You are.”

When Solas next looks up, the boy is gone.

There is no one else here either, no smiles, no touch on his skin. Soon, every moment will be like that.

Solas sits at his desk, pressing the palms of his hands into his eyes.                                                                                                                                             

 


End file.
